


Backstage Bruises

by cowboykylux



Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstage, Dirty Talk, F/M, Impact Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding Crops, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: During rehearsal for Charlie's latest play, he notices that you seem a little more distracted than usual. With a firm hand the locked door of the prop room, he helps you...clear your head.
Relationships: Charlie Barber/Reader, Charlie Barber/You
Series: Kinktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949992
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	Backstage Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my Kinktober 2020 fic event
> 
> Prompt: Impact Play

“Okay, you know what, why don’t we wrap it up early?” Charlie claps his hands together in a sign of resignation, the breadth of his shoulders tense.

You wince, knowing that it’s your fault, knowing it’s because you’ve all been at this for hours but you keep fumbling your lines, missing your cues. By the looks of the faces on your fellow company members, you can tell they’re all thinking it too. They won’t say anything of course, not while you’re around anyway – not while Charlie’s around, for that matter, but you can tell they’re thinking it.

“We’ll meet back here tomorrow at ten.” He says, and the company breaks out into happy chatter as they all begin to pack their belongings.

Slightly embarrassed, you move to where Charlie is speaking with the stage manager. He immediately turns his attention on you, and for a moment, you’re lost in the brown of his eyes, how deep and open they are for you, before you cast your own down to the floor. 

“I’m sorry Charlie, I don’t know what’s going on with me today.” You sigh and scrub a hand down your face.

“Did you get a chance to review your lines? I know it’s still early in rehearsals – ” Charlie starts, but you wave the question off.

“No it’s not that, I’ve been in this thing so deep over the weekend, I promise.” You’re earnest, and Charlie believes you, because he always does. He’s your Charlie, he always does.

“Then what is it?” He isn’t mad at you, he’s just concerned, it shows in the way his brow furrows, the way he places a hand on your elbow, the way he leans in towards you, wanting to envelop you into a hug and hold you tight, shielding you from the world, “You seem really distracted today.”

“I can’t help it, you’re very distracting.” You admit, and that’s it, isn’t it? The most embarrassing part, the part that somehow he understands more than all of the rest of it.

He grins, a great big smile on his face, because he knows exactly what you want, what you _need,_ and he’s going to give it to you.

Taking a few discreet glances, Charlie nods in the direction of behind the stage, and you follow as casually as you can. Everyone is still in the theater, all gathering up their things and talking amongst themselves, wondering what sort of dinner plans everyone has, how everyone’s teaming up for cab rides home. The red velvet curtains are still open, but no one notices you and Charlie slip behind the façades of the set pieces, no one pays you any attention at all.

Down down down the long corridor that leads from the back of the stage, Charlie brings you to one of the prop rooms. It’s quiet here, with thick doors and walls that trap the sound, perfect for what you need. Your heart thuds in your ears and your thighs begin to squeeze together in anticipation of what’s coming.

He surprises you though – when he picks up a riding crop. You bite at your bottom lip, regarding him carefully, watching as he gives an experimental smack of the crop against his palm. It’s loud, but you know that no one would be able to hear.

“What is that doing here?” It’s a stupid question, because why was anything ever in the prop rooms, but Charlie gives you an honest answer, one of those things about him that always makes you smile.

“Probably leftover from another production.” He smacks his palm again, and this time, this time the noise travels straight to your stomach, making it tense and flutter, making you wet. He knows, you know that he knows, especially when he does it a third time and says, “Bend over.”

Clutter fills the room and gives you the perfect perch to bend yourself over, a stack of storage boxes from a decade ago that happen to be just the right height for you to brace yourself. You do, your knees already turning in, and Charlie wastes little time in kicking your feet apart once more as he pushes up your skirt.

“Why aren’t you wearing underwear?” The question comes out more as a demand, a growl, and you’re already so wet, already so ready to do whatever he asked of you.

“I was…well I was hoping we could – oh!” The first hard smack comes down on your ass, and you’re gasping around the sound it makes when it meets your flesh.

“Count for me.” Charlie murmurs as he soothes the sting with the palm of his hand, a gesture you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already reveling in the pleasurepain of the impact.

“O-one.” You blink through surprise tears, back arching and hips pushing out towards him, your pussy feeling especially empty, clenching around nothing. “I was hoping you’d fuck me, in your office. After rehearsal.”

“No wonder you were missing cues – ” Charlie smacks hard again, this time on the other cheek.

“Two!”

“ – You’ve been thinking about this big cock, is that right? Do you want it?” He bends over you, drapes himself over your body. He’s so warm, always so hot, especially as he grinds his crotch against your bare ass, the fabric of his trousers scratching at your sensitive skin.

“Yes please, please stick it in, fill me up.” You look over your shoulder with wet lashes, hoping to catch his lips in a kiss.

He gives it to you, kisses you and slides his tongue against yours as he quickly yanks at the button of his pants and pulls his cock out. You’re so wet that he can slip his cock in between your folds and nudge his head into you with little resistance, and you do your best to relax to take him.

“Slut, look at you, perfect thing.” He kisses you a final time, before the crop comes down onto the side of your thigh, making you pitch forward and moan.

“Three! Oh _fuck_ , Charlie it stings so good.” You hiccup out, still pushing your hips back against him, fucking yourself on his cock, little thrusts because that’s all you can manage, but it’s more than enough to get your eyes shut tight and your toes curling in your shoes.

“You like it? Like being punished this way?” He grabs you by the hips and pushes himself fully into you, your load moan bouncing off the walls of the prop room, trapping inside the rows and rows of storage shelving. He smacks your flesh with the crop again, “You’re not going to be able to sit down for the rest of the fucking day.”

“Fourfourfourfour.” You’re panting hard now, the combination of the crop and his cock is too much, your clit throbs and you want so badly to touch it, but you need your hands to brace yourself against the boxes. Tears drip down your cheek as you gasp and arch and wriggle under the crop for, “Five!”

Five seems to be the magic number, because you hear the clatter of the crop hitting the floor, and suddenly both of Charlie’s hands are on your waist, holding you nicely and fucking you with a harsh and fast rhythm that you know is going to get you both to coming very quickly.

“Good girl, you’re so fucking pretty, I wish you could see what you’ve done.” He bends over you once again, his stomach on your back as he bites and sucks at your shoulder, giving you those backstage bruises you so desperately craved, his own voice raw and dark when he says, “I love you, I love how wet your pussy gets.”

“Just for you Charlie.” You take him as best as you can, until the wet slapping of skin on skin is all that fills the air, punctuated by your moans and gasps and his grunts and groans groans groans.

“Say my name again.” He orders, a hand slipping around to your clit and giving you the release you need.

“Charlie!” You nearly shout at the surprise of your orgasm, as it licks and ripples up through your spine, behind your eyelids, into your skull, lightning captured in a bottle as you practically beg, “Come in me?”

“Fuck.” Charlie grunts one last time, his hips fucking into you erratically until they don’t move at all. He pants low in your ear, kisses your throat, smiles against your sweat sticky skin, “Let me take you back home…rub some lotion into these welts.”

“Mmmmmokay,” You’re hazy and dizzy in the best way, knees weak for the moment while you ride this high. You can’t help but giggle a little as he pulls out of you with a wet squelch, tucks himself back into his pants. You try to get a peek at his cock before it goes, grinning as you suggest, “Maybe then you can help me practice these lines.”

“Oh I’ll help you alright baby.” Charlie smirks, pulling you into his arms and kissing you hard, “I’ll help you.”


End file.
